This morning, for the first time this year, a sparrow erupted in chirps outside our bedroom window. A sign of spring. I envy those of you who live farther south who are already seeing the pale yellow wash on the bushes of forsythia. We still have snow on the ground.
I’m going to Florida! My sister Dolores owns a home in Fort Myers and has been asking me to come down for a visit. I finally agreed, and will be gone from Minneapolis from March 13 to the 21st. I’m taking my laptop with me, and so should be able to continue blogging. We’ve been exchanging e-mails about where we’ll go: to various beaches, to the Ding Darling (isn’t that an interesting name? He was a famous boat designer) bird preserve, to play golf, to just sit in the sun, shopping, etc., etc. Any suggestions? I've been there before, it's a very pretty area. I remember the row of huge banyan trees on the Henry Ford and adjoining Thomas Edison estates. And the shells on the beaches of Sanibel Island.
Today I’m going to interview some people who work at the Courage Center. I want to pick their brains about therapy pools and how they are set up and run– and how their security systems work. I am, of course, going to mess with the security system in the book I’m about to write. I have a friend – more an acquaintance, actually – who is designing the facility, and she’s come up with a pretty good idea for the flaw.
We have two cats, Panzi and Snaps. Both of them occasionally throw up – Panzi especially will stop eating her favorite snack, turn away from the bowl, and throw it up. Five minutes later, she’s back, wanting more of the same snack. But lately Snaps has been throwing up a lot, especially at night. It’s not a fur ball, there is little fur in it, though some. And there’s not any partly-digested food in it, either. I’m thinking a call to our vet is in order. We’re lucky to have a home-visit veterinarian. He’s a very nice man, very gentle with the cats. Do any of you have suffered a similar problem with your cat? What turned out to be the problem?
Advance notice: Saturday, March 24, from one to five: Bloomington Book Fair, at the Bloomington Center for the Arts, 1800 Old Shakopee Road, Bloomington, MN. I’ll be sitting at a table with Carl Brookins, senior member of my writer’s group, and we’ll both have books for sale.
Showing posts with label Courage Center. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Courage Center. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Mardi Gras, Watered Silk
Advance notice: Saturday, Feb. 25, 2 pm, I will be at the Rum River Public Library in Anoka, MN, to give a talk and sell books.
Another: Saturday, March 24, from one to five: Bloomington Book Fair, at the Bloomington Center for the Arts, 1800 Old Shakopee Road, Bloomington, MN. I’ll be sitting at a table with Carl Brookins, senior member of my writer’s group, and we’ll both have books for sale.
Today is Mardi Gras, AKA Shrove Tuesday, AKA Fat Tuesday. Lent Eve. In medieval times Lent was serious business. People gave up meat (and meat products like fat) altogether between Ash Wednesday and Easter, and did other penitential things, so today was the last day to have a blow out, and use up things you couldn't have for forty days. Lent is a season of reflection and regret but with a glorious promise at the end. Kind of sad, but typical, that we as a culture have kept the party but forgotten the reason for it. Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. Look for people with black smudges on their foreheads. I only found out recently that the ashes are made from last year’s palm branches. “Remember, Man, that thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return,” a reminder of one's mortality. Serious business. End of sermon.
I’m starting to look at my next book, Watered Silk. Three mornings a week – early mornings, 6:30 am – I go to a place called Courage Center for water aerobics. They specialize in rehabilitating people with physical problems, whether from genetic problems, accident or illness. I have psoriatic arthritis and their heated Olympic-size pool is a Godsend. Standing shoulder-deep in the water I can do vigorous movements impossible on dry land. But I also write murder mysteries, and for some while I have nurtured an image of an instructor coming in very early in the morning, when all is still dark, turning on the high overhead lights, and finding a young woman's body floating in the deep end. Cool, right? Well, Courage Center doesn’t think so. They think a book about a murder set in a place where vulnerable people gather is a very bad idea. But the heroine of my series is well established as going to the Courage Center. So I’m going to invent a place not unlike the Courage Center and say the Courage Center has to close its pool for a couple of weeks to drain it and make repairs, and so the Early Birders have to find a temporary new location for aerobics. And it’s that fictional place that will startle an instructor turning on the lights. I have a friend who lives in Canada, who has a friend who likes to design buildings, and this friend of a friend and I are going to come up with a building that has a door with a broken lock . . .
I love my job.
Another: Saturday, March 24, from one to five: Bloomington Book Fair, at the Bloomington Center for the Arts, 1800 Old Shakopee Road, Bloomington, MN. I’ll be sitting at a table with Carl Brookins, senior member of my writer’s group, and we’ll both have books for sale.
Today is Mardi Gras, AKA Shrove Tuesday, AKA Fat Tuesday. Lent Eve. In medieval times Lent was serious business. People gave up meat (and meat products like fat) altogether between Ash Wednesday and Easter, and did other penitential things, so today was the last day to have a blow out, and use up things you couldn't have for forty days. Lent is a season of reflection and regret but with a glorious promise at the end. Kind of sad, but typical, that we as a culture have kept the party but forgotten the reason for it. Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. Look for people with black smudges on their foreheads. I only found out recently that the ashes are made from last year’s palm branches. “Remember, Man, that thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return,” a reminder of one's mortality. Serious business. End of sermon.
I’m starting to look at my next book, Watered Silk. Three mornings a week – early mornings, 6:30 am – I go to a place called Courage Center for water aerobics. They specialize in rehabilitating people with physical problems, whether from genetic problems, accident or illness. I have psoriatic arthritis and their heated Olympic-size pool is a Godsend. Standing shoulder-deep in the water I can do vigorous movements impossible on dry land. But I also write murder mysteries, and for some while I have nurtured an image of an instructor coming in very early in the morning, when all is still dark, turning on the high overhead lights, and finding a young woman's body floating in the deep end. Cool, right? Well, Courage Center doesn’t think so. They think a book about a murder set in a place where vulnerable people gather is a very bad idea. But the heroine of my series is well established as going to the Courage Center. So I’m going to invent a place not unlike the Courage Center and say the Courage Center has to close its pool for a couple of weeks to drain it and make repairs, and so the Early Birders have to find a temporary new location for aerobics. And it’s that fictional place that will startle an instructor turning on the lights. I have a friend who lives in Canada, who has a friend who likes to design buildings, and this friend of a friend and I are going to come up with a building that has a door with a broken lock . . .
I love my job.
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